Harry Potter and the Icemaidens

Charnwood Forest . . .

"Oh, Merlin . . . "

A tired groan escaped the dishevelled man currently picking himself off the ground deep within the old growth forest close to Leicester. As he brushed himself off, Remus Lupin could only breathe out in relief on seeing his clothes -- and even more important, his wand -- lying nearby, all intact. It had often been quite close whenever his "furry problem" got out of control and he was nowhere near a convenient place like the Shrieking Shack so he could transform and hope to NOT threaten any innocent person with the affliction that had haunted him since early childhood. Picking up his wand, he whispered a cleansing charm to clean the dirt and excrement all over his body, and then he moved to dress.

Just as he got his boxers on, a voice then called out, "Nice arse!"

Remus yelped as he spun around, wand at the ready. "Who's there?!"

A chuckle as -- much to Remus' shock -- a woman's lips seemed to float out from behind a nearby tree at the level of the mouth of a person his height. Seeing that, Remus blinked before a light smile crossed his face. "Miss Cheshire, I presume."

"You presume correctly, Mister Moony," the mouth called back before a mist formed around it to reveal the person those lips belonged to. "Hello, Remus."

The werewolf's jaw dropped in shocked disbelief. "Napaeae Collins . . . "

A laugh. "It's Napaeae Runcorn now, Remus."

He grinned. "You and Herodotus married?! Smashing!" He then blinked as a wind blew through the trees, and then his cheeks reddened. "Um, would you . . . "

Drawing her wand, Napaeae did a quick swish with it to better clean off her old schoolmate's skin. "You need to work on those charms better," she advised him as she held out a portkey in the form of a pair of handcuffs. "Get your clothes. I'll take you to my place so you can get a shower and some food into you."

Remus blinked, and then he nodded . . .

* * *

The Runcorn home, later . . .

"So you're a werewolf, right?"

Remus blinked, and then he stared at Achelois for a moment before nodded. "Yes, I am, Achelois. I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when I was about your age."

"Did it hurt?" Cassotis, a girl a year younger than Achelois, then asked before she sipped her pineapple juice. "Last night?"

A tired nod. "Yes, it did. Quite badly, I might say."

"Why didn't you take your Wolfsbane?" Albunea, Cassotis' twin, wondered.

"Not all people like your Uncle Remus have access to that, Albunea," the patriarch of the Runcorn family, Napaeae's husband Herodotus, said from behind an opened copy of The Guardian. "Given the way most people, both wizarding and normal, tend to look on people like him, the chances of him having a decent job are small." He lowered his paper and smiled at their guest. "But at least we've got a good and honourable man here who's willing to work for his keep."

"You're too kind, Hero," Remus said as he toasted him with his cup of juice, which he was drinking after Napaeae forced-fed him some very powerful restorative potions to get his body chemistry back to normal again. "I do appreciate this."

"Pshaw! Don't mention it," the other man said. Herodotus Runcorn had been a Ravenclaw who had been in his sixth year of study when Remus and Napaeae were freshmen. After he graduated in 1973, he had become an Auror, serving on the front lines against the Death Eaters until he had been magically blinded and had his left lower leg severed in a fight with Voldemort's people five years later. He had been saved by Napaeae's sudden arrival, though Remus didn't know the exact circumstances of that incident. After Herodotus had his eyesight restored and his leg replaced by a magical prosthetic that allowed him to walk normally, the two married a year later and disappeared from mainstream magical society. Achelois was born on the new moon in June of 1980. "Not all purebloods are arrogant and short-sighted bigots, you know."

"Yeah, we're not all mudbrains," Achelois stated.

Cassotis and Albunea laughed. Remus looked confused. "'Mudbrain?'"

"Do you know the Mun family in London, Uncle Remus?" Achelois asked.

He perked. "The Moon family?"

"No! Mun!" Remus was quick to detect the shorter, deep vowel sound in the name. "They're Korean. They moved here from North Korea three years ago. They live close to where the Ropers live down in London." Achelois then giggled and her sisters laughed as she added, "Aesup -- she's a friend of mine and Jane Roper's -- called Draco Malfoy a 'mudbrain' when he called her a 'mudblood' after they met in Diagon Alley. Which was really dumb; Aesup's whole family are as pure as they come."

"Almost befitting," Napaeae stated before sipping her coffee. "Put an idiot like Narcissa in a normal situation and she wouldn't know what to do, I think."

Remus chuckled. "You have a point there."

"Jane said Draco's sister and cousin are okay," Albunea said.

Remus perked. "Draco has a sister?"

"Uh-huh. She's Raven Malfoy. And her cousin's Cassiopeia Lestrange."

The werewolf's jaw dropped. "Bellatrix and Rodolphus had a child?!"

"Yes. And a very beautiful girl she is, too," Napaeae stated, and then she blinked as something warped through her. "Oh, no . . . "

Everyone else tensed. "What is it, Mom?" Achelois asked.

Sighing, Napaeae stood up. "Excuse me, please."

She headed downstairs. "What's wrong?!" Remus asked.

Herodotus blinked, and then lowered her paper. "Come with me, Remus," the former Auror beckoned as he stood. "If you're going to be joining James' and Lily's young children, you'll need to understand what they're involved with now."

He headed to the doorway leaning downstairs. "Wait!" Remus called out as he moved to follow. "What's this about Harry . . .?!"

It hit him. "'CHILDREN?!'"

Achelois, Cassotis and Albunea all laughed . . .

* * *

Minutes later . . .

Remus tried not to reel too much as he stood in the scrying room.

A chamber -- and the surrounding tower -- that were almost as old as Hogwarts itself, held and used by Herodotus' family as they served first their local earl, and then progressed over the years to become avowed servants of the Crown.

And after taking a moment to scan the detailed runes on the floor and walls, Remus had started to suspect what Napaeae could DO with this chamber!

Like many who had been part of the Order of the Phoenix, Remus knew what had happened at Romney Marsh during the night of 21 March 1979.

He had actually seen the bodies.

The looks of mind-shattering horror frozen on their faces.

The flesh of their left arms bleeding from torn skin.

And the Dark Mark itself . . .

Twisted. Warped. Mutilated.

And since all of them had been bound to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named . . .

When the final curse hit them . . .

From where?

What curse had it really been?

. . . death had come to them all.

Painful.

Agonising.

Soul-shattering.

And now . . .

"You can actually track anyone with the Dark Mark in this thing?"

"Yes, I can. But only in within the old borders of Cheshire," Napaeae said, standing in the middle of the room. Remus and Herodotus were at the entrance, keeping clear of her. The children were back at the house. "I have the room automatically notify me if the Kokujun rune stones detect the magic of a Dark Mark when it comes in range." She then scowled. "And right now, over in Neston, we've got one."

"Who is it, dear?" Herodotus asked.

"Let's find out. Room, image of the target now in Neston."

Sparks appeared in the air to Napaeae's front and right, which then solidified into a solid image. "That's Helena Gibbon! She's Marcus Gibbon's sister!" Remus snarled on seeing the rather plain woman currently dressed in something that would have been in fashion a hundred years ago. "They both got away from Azkaban . . . "

"By pleading they were under the Imperius, just like so many others did after Riddle went down," Napaeae finished for her guest. "Well, let's find out what she's doing here," she stated as drew her wand and also a small pressure ball Remus was quick to sense was a portkey. "Stay here. I won't be long."

And with that, she vanished. Remus watched her go, and then he gazed on Herodotus. "So what will she do?" the werewolf asked.

"Ask Ms. Gibbon what she's doing in the normal part of town," the retired Auror replied, pointing to the holographic map Napaeae called up of Neston, the icon of a skull and crossbones heading at walking speed down one street. "People like them wouldn't come to a normal zone unless . . . " He then paused before blinking. "Oh, Merlin, no! It couldn't be that!"

"What?!" Remus demanded.

Herodotus' jaw set in place. "Room, show image of Orla Quirke."

Immediately, the image of a pretty three year-old child, dressed currently in pyjamas, appeared beside the image of Helena Gibbon. "A Muggleborn?" Remus asked.

"Yes! And her family lives in Neston!" Herodotus snarled as his eyes then fixed on the image of Helena Gibbon. "A lot of Napaeae's co-workers believe that, with Lucius Malfoy as one of the members of the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, the still-free Death Eaters and their friends now have open access to the Roll Book."

Silence.

"Merlin!" Remus gasped. "If that's true . . .!"

* * *

Neston . . .

"Going somewhere, Helena?"

Helena Gibbon jolted on hearing that cold voice, and then she stopped, glancing around as her hand reached for her jacket sleeve and the wand secured there. "Who's there?" she growled as she tried to scan for the source of that voice.

"Accio parchment!"

The woman yelped as something leapt out of the cleavage of her dress top, sailing through the air to suddenly vanish near a tree. A second later, a tsking sound echoed from all around her. "Oh, Helena. Where on Earth did you get all these names? Was it Lucius? Amycus or Alecto, perhaps? Well, speak up!"

Growling, Helena yanked out her wand and aimed at the area where the parchment with the names of the mudbloods she had been asked to kill were written. Before she could chant a spell, that voice hissed, "Gunjun . . .!

" . . . MORSMORDRE CRUCIO!"

And Helena's whole world suddenly exploded in waves of pain . . .

* * *

At the window of 7 Olive Drive, a very young girl dressed in pyjamas looked out the window onto the street beyond. Unlike anyone else that were staring out onto Olive Drive that day, Orla Quirke could -- even though she didn't understand it at the time -- see through the screen of the combination Muggle-Repelling Charm and Confundus Charm that had been set up minutes before by one Napaeae Runcorn to ensure that no one would see what was about to befall her chosen target, Helena Gibbon.

As Orla watched, the lady in the strange dress had collapsed to the ground as another lady -- a pretty lady that reminded Orla a lot of her own mother -- appeared nearby. As the woman who fainted tried to struggle back to her feet and aim a thin stick towards the other woman, the latter reached over and yanked the stick out of her hand, snapping it in half in her grip. The first lady looked very angry, as if the second lady had just broken her favourite toy. And then the second lady pulled out her own stick before she aimed it right at the first lady's face . . .

* * *

"You're that . . . blood-traitor who . . . married that Auror . . . "

Shuddering after finding herself being rudely reacquainted with the Cruciatus Curse -- who had cursed her? -- Helena tried not to scream in pain as she gazed at the business end of Napaeae's foot-long oak and dragon heartstring wand. "Yes, Helena, I am that person. And I'm a lot more, too. Remember Romney Marsh?"

Hearing that, Helena gasped before she hissed, "The Dark Lord will . . . "

"Morsmordre Crucio!"

A howling scream escaped Helena's lips as her right hand shot over to her left lower arm to tear at her sleeve and get at the hissing, burning thing! that was tearing up her muscles and sending pulses of sheer AGONY through her body. As Helena tried to fight off what was literally making her Master's mark eat her alive, her attacker knelt before her, a mirthless smile on her face. "Finite," she called out, making the spell vanish and Helena collapse against the sidewalk, her scream turning into a tearful moan of pain as she tried to cradle her arm.

"Doesn't feel so good when you're at the receiving end of it, doesn't it?" Napaeae asked. "How many did your torture and kill over the years you were fighting for Riddle, Gibbon? Ten? A hundred? Even more? Did you honestly think you would get away with it?" she then wondered before unrolling the parchment she had seized from Helena's blouse and looking at the names. "My! My! My! What have we here? Orla Quirke. Andrew Kirke. Natalie McDonald. Kevin Whitby. Rose Zeller . . . " She sighed before gazing at Helena. "All normal-borns, I take it. All taken from the Roll Book at Hogwarts? No doubt provided to you by Malfoy, I believe."

"So what?!" Helena snarled. "They're mudbloods! Filthy little . . . "

"Morsmordre Crucio!"

Helena screamed again . . .

* * *

From her bedroom window, Orla could only cover her ears.

What did the strange lady do that made the other lady so MAD at her . . .?

* * *

"Finite."

Helena's voice dissolved into moans and wails of pain as the strength of her body faded. Staring at her, Napaeae could only shake her head. "Don't make this harder than it already is, Helena," she warned. "There's a confounding charm and a normal-repellent charm around us right now. Not to mention anti-portkey and anti-apparation wards to prevent you from running away. No one can hear you scream. And no one will come to your rescue, either. Your half-blood bastard child of a Dark Lord is without a body as we speak. His servants are either cooling their arses in Azkaban or pretending to be what they're not. The forces of Magic are far stronger than you could ever dare believe. Do you honestly think you'll get away with this forever?"

Helena shuddered. "H-h-how . . .?"

"Ah, that . . . "

The woman quaked.

Napaeae then smirked. "Is a secret."

A look of outrage then flashed across the Death Eater's face. "You . . . "

"Morsmordre Crucio!"

Helena's voice disintegrated into a shriek . . .

* * *

In her bedroom, Orla could only shake her head.

Boy, was that lady sure mad!

* * *

"Finite."

Helena was now a sobbing wreck on the ground, having curled up on herself as she tried to move any part of her body, especially her right hand so she could get to her portkey -- hidden in a pocket on her dress -- and try to escape. Before she could do much, Napaeae then smiled as she held out her hand. "Accio portkey!"

Helena howled as the device -- it was an old family ring, Napaeae was quick to note -- flew out of her skirt and into the other woman's hand. As the latter stared at it, the former lunged over. Napaeae back-somersaulted to her feet, keeping well clear.

"Morsmordre Crucio!"

Another scream of pain escaped Helena as her vocal chords were strained to the breaking point. Watching her, Napaeae could only shake her head as the Death Eater thrashed around on the ground, unable to do anything to fight off the curse that was brutalising the protean charm-based tattoo burned into her arm by the Dark Lord over a decade ago. After another minute, Napaeae called out, "Finite." That made Helena collapse on the ground as her breakfast began to surge up from her stomach and through her mouth onto the sidewalk.

Napaeae tsked again as she knelt down. "Give it up, Helena. I just want a name. One simple name. Can't you give me that, Helena? Please?"

The Death Eater nearly choked on her tongue as she hissed out, "M-m-Malfoy . . . "

"Which one?"

"L-l-Lucius . . . "

Napaeae hummed, and then she nodded. "That's fair enough. I suspected it was him anyway. Like a friend of mine suspected the Carrows of trying to unleash Daniel Rosier on other normal-borns a year ago. Pity he didn't survive the experience."

Through the haze of the pain that was scalding her arm, Helena shuddered as her mind locked in on that information, a surge of panic and fear welling up deep inside her. Daniel Rosier had been one of the Dark Lord's first recruits and the father of a later servant, Evan, who had fallen at the hands of Alastor Moody sometime after the Potter brat had somehow defeated Voldemort in 1981. Unlike Evan, Daniel's luck at avoiding Azkaban had been better -- but a year ago, he had been found dead and crucified in Knockturn Alley, his body wracked with the same horrid wounds those brave souls that attacked that coven of mudbloods in East Sussex had suffered in 1979.

If only . . .

"Well, I'm more than satisfied right now," Napaeae then said as she stood up.

"Gunjun: Morsmordre Avada Kedavra!"

And Helena howled as the Dark Mark on her arm suddenly glowed for a moment before it seemed to partially disintegrate. The scream escaping her throat suddenly was cut off as a look of surprise and shock crossed her face before her eyes closed.

"So quiet . . . "

With that, Helena Gibbon sank finally to the ground, her last breath escaping her as her life fled from her body. Staring at her, Napaeae could only shake her head before standing, reaching into her jeans pocket to pull out a bubblegum wrapper, and then she placed it on the body. "Portus!" she called out. "Activate."

Helena's body then disappeared. With that, Napaeae took a deep breath before her eyes focussed on Number Seven . . . and then she froze. "Oh, hell . . . "

* * *

Orla gasped on seeing the woman gaze right at her after she made the other woman who had gone to sleep vanish, and then she ducked from the window as she scampered to her bed. Before she could get far, a wand tip touched the side of her head.

"Obliviate."

* * *

Minutes later, Jenna Quirke walked into her daughter's bedroom to see Orla asleep in her bed, hugging her favourite teddy bear, a smile on her face. Noting that, the older woman could only smile as she turned to leave, and then she stopped.

She quietly walked over to stare at the beautiful apple that was now standing on Orla's nightstand. How did this get here? she wondered to herself . . .

* * *

Reevetor Chestershire . . .

Remus and Herodotus blinked as Napaeae appeared in the middle of the scrying room, a rolled parchment in her hand and her wand in her other hand. "Gunjun: Confundo Finite. Gunjun: Repello Muggletum Finite," she called out as the runes around them ceased glowing, plunging the scrying room into near-darkness save for the glow of the torches around the room. With that, Napaeae took a deep breath, and then walked over to allow her husband to hold her close. "I'm okay," she whispered.

"Who was it?" Herodotus asked. Napaeae handed him the parchment. Opening it, he scanned the names, and then he snarled, "Malfoy!" As he crumpled the parchment up, he glared at his wife. "I am SO going to love seeing his face when he sees Gibbon's body on a cross in Knockturn tomorrow," he added before storming out of the room.

Remus watched him go, and then a look of stunned comprehension came over his face. "My God! You're going to do the same thing to Gibbon as what happened to Rosier?!"

"Of course," Napaeae replied. "Tommy!"

A pop! later, a very effeminate teenage man stood at the doorway to the scrying room, dressed semi-formally in slacks, button shirt and a pull-over sweater with the coat of arms of Cheshire on his left breast, the Royal Cypher over it and crossed wands underneath. "Did you want me for something, Mistress?" he asked.

Gazing at the boy, Remus blinked before his nose picked up the scent of a house elf emanating from him. "Yes, Tommy, I do," Napaeae stated. "There's the body of a Death Eater in the apparation room downstairs. See to it when the opportunity comes that it is properly crucified and placed in Knockturn when no one's looking."

Hearing that, the boy scowled as his eyes seemed to flash. "Another one trying to hurt the normal-borns?" he said, a snarl in his voice.

"Exactly."

A nod. "I'll make sure it's done right, Mistress. Excuse me."

With another pop!, he was gone. "That was a house elf," Remus stated.

"Yes," Napaeae breathed out. "He's a sweet boy. The girls love him to death."

He blinked. "He looked human."

"Of course. We live in a normal neighbourhood and the girls bring their friends to the house all the time. How would you explain something like a house elf to them?"

A sigh. "Napaeae, all you need are . . . "

"Explain that to two five year-old girls who like Sindy dolls."

Remus stopped, and then he chuckled. "Good point." He then sobered. "Napaeae, what did you just do to Gibbon? I remember what happened at Romney Marsh. That could only have been done using dark magic! What happened today?!"

A sigh, and then Napaeae spun around to glare intently in the werewolf's eyes. "Yes, Moony! I used the Cruciatus! I used the Killing Curse! There! Satisfied?!"

His jaw dropped. "Napaeae! If the Aurors find out . . .!"

She winked. "On the Dark Mark."

Remus' mouth dropped open. " . . . WHAT?!"

A laugh. "First of all, Remus, I AM properly deputised by the Queen to enforce her laws and edicts in the County of Cheshire," she declared. "That's what they mean when they call me a 'Magical Shire Reeve.' One of Her Majesty's Magical Sheriffs, in other words. So everything I did today is totally legal as it IS sanctioned by the HIGHEST magical authority in this land. And there's not a damned thing the Ministry can do to stop it. Period, full stop, end of statement." She slipped her wand into her shirt. "And second, all I did was attack the Dark Mark itself. It's not MY fault that idiot allowed herself to be branded like a cow by that half-blood bastard child FREAK she calls a 'dark lord,' letting her very own LIFE FORCE be governed by that damned mark!" With that, she took a deep breath before she turned away. "Besides, if you ONLY count the purebloods, the number of wizards in Britain is going down to the point where it might NEVER recover. Like it or not -- and I sure as hell DON'T subscribe to Riddle's idiot beliefs -- we need the normal-borns to keep our society alive. You know that, Moony! So does Albus! What the hell's wrong with that?!"

He stared at her, and then he shook his head. "That's still grey, Chessy!"

Napaeae blinked on hearing the nickname often applied to her Icemaiden moniker, and then she nodded. "Yeah," she breathed out. "C'mon. Let me get you to Beckery Hill; that's where Harry and Rose are now. It's time for them to be reunited with one of their parents' best friends." She winked at him. "And no, I don't particularly care what that idiot Bagnold told you concerning your friends' son."

"Um, Napaeae . . . "

"What?"

"Minister Bagnold had a curse put on me about that."

Napaeae blinked, and then she sighed. "What?"

"I can't write to him even by Muggle post, can't visit him and I can't even speak to him. If I do, I'll find myself caught in a cloud of silver dust and I'll have the Aurors on my arse right away. They'll have orders to kill me right on sight." Remus gave her a wry grin. "It's what I deserve for being a 'dark' creature."

A snort. "Over here."

He followed her to the work shelf at one side of the scrying room. Opening the drawer there, she pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. Writing down several lines, she turned the sheet over so he could read it. "Will you swear this oath?"

Remus read it over, and then he gazed back at Napaeae. "What will this do?"

"You will be declaring that from this point on, you will swear your magic to the service of the Queen. Once that oath goes into place, any magic forced on you by the Ministry of Magic will be eliminated," she told him, and then she winked. "Including a silly curse put on you for reasons that have no legal justification in the eyes of Her Majesty. As far as the Queen is concerned -- unless you break the laws of the land, both normal and legislated laws by the Wizengamot; no ministerial decrees allowed here -- your 'furry problem' should not discriminate you from doing anything."

He blinked, and then a smile crossed his face. "Miss Cheshire, it is such a tragedy that you and your friends did not partner with us when we were at school. If we had done that, I don't think even You-Know-Who could have stopped us!"

She smirked as she drew a knife -- not a silver one -- from the drawer under the work shelf. "Mister Moony, in my experience, if a rule makes sense, it has to be supported. If it doesn't, then it deserves the respect it will get from me." A lethal look crossed her face as she leaned up to him and hissed out, "None."

A nod. "Good point."

* * *

Hogwarts . . .

"Millicent!" Albus called out as he stood. "Come in! Come in! Excuse the damage, please, but we had quite the accident here last night!"

Emerging from the floo fire, Millicent Bagnold took a deep breath as she slipped off the shawl she normally wore over her head. "Good morning, Albus," she said before stopping and staring at the burnt wall on one side of the room. "Great Merlin!" the Minister for Magic gasped on seeing the scorched walls. "Don't tell me you went through the same thing we did?!" she asked as she moved over to sit down.

"What do you mean?" the headmaster asked as he took his seat. "Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you, Albus." A sigh. "Albus, I know you were very concerned about Harry Potter after his parents were killed by You-Know-Who. We at the Ministry agreed with you when you had him placed with his muggle relatives; it IS the law, after all." She then paused before shaking her head. "But he's gone, Albus! Totally gone!"

Albus blinked. "Who's gone?!"

"Harry Potter!"

Silence.

"How did you learn that?" Albus sternly demanded, the twinkle in his eyes vanishing as a look of sullen rage billowed on his face.

"People from the D.M.L.E. placed a monitoring charm on his home shortly after his relatives took him in," the minister explained. Quickly seeing her host about to explode over that revelation, she held up a hand. "It was a simple thing. Totally harmless. And controlled from Amelia's office; she and I were the only ones to know about this. But very late last night, the controlling mechanism for that charm exploded and nearly burnt Amelia's office down." Millicent blinked before she waved to the burnt wall in Albus' office. "I assume this happened around the same time."

The headmaster blinked, visibly relaxing. While Millicent was a politician and quite capable of all forms of skulduggery in her chosen field of battle, she was in essence a very honest person and dedicated to helping repair the hideous damage that Voldemort left behind when he was struck down by his own rebounded Killing Curse five years before. "Have you had a chance to go to Little Whinging to see what happened there?" he then asked. "Early this morning, Filius went down himself and found it impossible to apparate, portkey or floo into the town."

"The same thing with us," Millicent said with a nod. "Everything's down. And we've got all the Aurors accounted for." She then grimaced. "Do you think . . .?"

"Voldemort?" Albus ignored the shudder that ran through his guest on him saying that name. "I don't think so, Millicent. I believe it might be a third party."

She blinked. "WHAT third party?!"

"The ones responsible for Romney Marsh. AND Daniel Rosier's death last year."

Silence.

"Merlin . . .!" Millicent breathed out. "What are you saying?!"

A sigh as Albus took a lemon drop and placed it in his mouth. "What I am saying right now, Millicent, is a theory. Nothing more, nothing less. But ever since the war with Gellert ended in 1945, I've come to sense that there is a third power active in this country. On one side, the Ministry and the forces of the Light. On the second side, Voldemort . . . " -- Again, he ignored the minister's jolt on hearing that name. -- " . . . the Death Eaters and those who support them. But there is a third side. A side willing to operate in total secrecy and strike with deadly efficiency when they feel it necessary. And they are dedicated to protecting the innocents in this land. The muggles, the other magical races and the like. They showed it at Romney Marsh. And they showed it again when Daniel was killed and left crucified in Knockturn."

Millicent's eyes sharpened. The Daily Prophet had raised a huge stink about that incident; the Rosiers were one of the older pureblood clans and Daniel had been one of its last surviving members. "What do you know about that?"

Albus sighed. "Five days after his body was discovered by the residents in Knockturn, we received an anonymous letter at the Muggle post office box where our muggleborns' parents send letters when they don't have owl access," he stated. "In it, Daniel was accused of obtaining copies of records from our Roll Book, and then using that to seek out muggleborns who will be scheduled to come to this school in the next couple of years, hoping to kill them in accidents and prevent their coming to school. Even more, he was able to get that knowledge thanks to Amycus and Alecto Carrow."

Her jaw dropped. "The Carrows?! Albus, they're untouchable! They were one of the ones who claimed the Imperius defence and got away with it! If I try to go after them with this, the Wizengamot will laugh me out of their chambers, then impeach me!"

A nod. Despite her shortfalls, Millicent was a very intelligent and observant woman. That was what made her dangerous in the eyes of the supporters of the pureblood agenda such as Lucius Malfoy. Albus had started to hear rumblings in the Wizengamot concerning a challenge to Millicent's tenure by Cornelius Fudge. "Yes, I know. I know. But it is there. These people, whoever they are, know what's happening. And in Daniel's case, they were able to get him and eliminate him, doing it in such a way that ensured their tracks were covered and left Voldemort's . . . " -- Again, he ignored her shiver on hearing that name. -- " . . . supporters wondering what was going on."

"And if they stay unsure, they won't do anything stupid," she finished.

"Exactly . . . "

The fireplace suddenly flared. "Millicent?!"

Both turned. "What is it, Amelia?!" Millicent called back.

The face of Amelia Bones appeared in the magical flames. "We have a problem."

"What?!"

"The device monitoring Remus Lupin has been destroyed."

Silence.

"WHAT?!" the minister screamed out. "HOW?!"

"It's the very same thing as what happened with the monitor on Harry Potter, Millicent," the Chief Auror of the Ministry stated. "It just exploded ten minutes ago."

Millicent blinked, and then she nodded. "Thank you, Amelia. Start an investigation. See if we can trace Lupin down and find out where he is."

"Of course."

The magical flames died down. "Millicent . . . " Albus began.

"No, Albus!" the minister said. "I know you trust Lupin, but the public will NOT condone the idea of a dark creature being close to the Boy-Who-Lived! You know that as well as I do! I had no choice, especially after what happened with Black!"

A sigh. "True, Millicent . . . "

The door then opened. "Albus!"

Both turned as Minerva McGonagall stormed in, a folded copy of the Daily Prophet in hand. "Minerva, the Minister and I . . . " the headmaster began.

The paper was place down on the table. "She should see it," Minerva warned.

All three looked at the title. "Oh, dear . . . " Albus breathed out.

"Oh, no!" Millicent moaned as the headline screamed out:

HARRY POTTER MISSING!

Muggle Village Boy-Who-Lived Was In Now Cut Off From All Magical Access!

Albus could only shake his head . . .

* * *

To be continued . . .